Let's all be more positive towards nature. But how?

Have you heard about Nature Positive? It’s a global movement to stop all the damage we’re doing to the natural environment – to forests, rivers, plants and animals – and start reversing that damage. It’s an idea whose time has come. And it’s coming to Australia next week.

Tuesday week will see the world’s first global Nature Positive Summit in Sydney, hosted by federal Minister for the Environment and Water Tanya Plibersek and NSW Minister for the Environment Penny Sharpe.

The summit will be “the next step towards turbocharging private sector investment in nature repair”. It will bring together ministers, experts, environmental groups, businesses, First Nations people, community leaders and scientists.

It will “bring together global leaders to discuss next steps for a nature-positive future, so that our kids and grandkids will be able to enjoy the wild places we love today”, Plibersek says.

Sharpe says that “getting nature on the path to recovery is as important as tackling climate change. Nature positive, and investing in nature, are newish concepts, and they are key to turning around destruction and pollution of land, waterways and air, and stopping biodiversity loss”.

The summit’s sessions and site visits will cover driving sustainable ocean economies and “blue finance”, developing nature reporting frameworks, business leadership on sustainability, boosting First Nations leadership in nature repair, and showcasing nature repair in practice, across landscapes, seascapes and borders.

Well, that’s great. At this late stage, you’d have to be pretty boneheaded not to agree with all that. The question is, what should we do to stop the continued destruction and start repairing the damage we’ve already done?

Well, the answer’s obvious – obvious to economists anyway. Surely, what we should do is create the incentives necessary to discourage destructive behaviour and encourage helpful behaviour.

We need to set up something similar to the present “safeguard mechanism”, which requires businesses in industries with major carbon emissions to limit and then reduce their emissions.

Where this is impractical, they must “offset” any excess emissions with “carbon credits” purchased from farmers and others who do things that reduce an equivalent amount of carbon emissions. These “Australian carbon credit units” are certified by a government agency to ensure they’re genuine.

Get it? Rather than just ordering companies to stop emitting greenhouse gases, the government uses an “economic instrument” that offers incentives to businesses to do the right thing. The government creates a new market where businesses unable to reduce their emissions can pay other businesses to reduce emissions for them.

The emissions are reduced by those businesses that can do so cheaply, rather than the firms for which doing so would be much more costly. The market thus allows the community to reduce climate damage at the lowest available cost.

Neat idea, eh? One small problem. We have to be sure the businesses being paid to reduce their emissions really do so to the extent they claim. But these carbon-credit schemes are notorious around the world for being dodgy or downright fraudulent.

One problem is ensuring the carbon isn’t locked up (“sequestrated”) for a few years and then let go. Another is being sure people aren’t getting paid to do something they fully intended to do anyway for other reasons.

Officialdom insists that our federal carbon-credit system is kosher. But various whistleblowers beg to differ – and that’s not hard to believe.

With nature first, the schemes you use to reduce carbon emissions can be adapted to preserving and repairing bushland and plant and animal habitat. With bushland, there’s a fair bit of overlap between the two problems.

The NSW government has been running a biodiversity offsets scheme since 2017. But in its own politely ponderous way, a performance audit by the NSW Auditor-General in 2022 tore it limb from limb.

It found that the government department responsible for the scheme had “not effectively designed core elements” of it. There were “key concerns around the scheme’s integrity, transparency and sustainability” creating “a risk that biodiversity gains made through the scheme will not be sufficient to offset losses resulting from the impacts of [economic] development, and that the department will not be able to assess the scheme’s overall effectiveness”.

The point is, by now we’ve had enough experience of attempts by governments to create “markets” out of thin air, just by passing laws and setting up regulatory bodies, to know this doesn’t leave us with markets that work the way real markets work – let alone the markets that exist in economics textbooks.

When it comes to the environment, the trouble with government-created “markets” is that governments are creating the demand for something – a carbon credit, or a biodiversity credit – and also determining the supply of that something, by deciding who’s done something that entitles them to sell a credit.

So the buyer has been ordered to buy things called credits, while the seller has been allowed to sell things called credits. See what real markets have that this market doesn’t? Customers.

A customer is someone who wants value for their money and, if they aren’t getting it, will either go somewhere else or decide to go without.

But in this so-called market without customers, buyers have to buy credits just to please the government, while sellers who’ve been granted a piece of paper called a credit have a guaranteed buyer.

So sellers can sell anything they’ve persuaded the government to class as a credit, while the buyers forced by the government to acquire officially designated credits, have no reason to care whether the credits they buy are good, bad or indifferent.

It’s hard to imagine a “market” where the risk of buying something that’s no good could be higher.

Now get this. As originally intended, the purpose of the Albanese government’s Nature Repair Act, passed late last year, was to establish a nature-repair market. But the Greens would pass the bill in the Senate only if it didn’t permit miners and other developers to harm nature. And if they did, the polluters would have to offset any damage by buying biodiversity credits.

So, in the end, the Act created only half a market. It gives the government power only to award farmers and others who do nature-enhancing things with “biodiversity certificates”, which they can sell.

Who’d want to buy such certificates? Only philanthropists, environmental groups, companies trying to enhance their environmental credentials, or governments coughing up taxpayers’ money.

You get the feeling the Greens don’t have much faith in creating artificial markets to fix the environment. They don’t seem to share most economists’ conviction that governments shouldn’t order people about – particularly businesspeople.

So how else can we pursue nature positive? Well, here’s a radical thought: governments could stop logging native forests, stop further land clearing, stop subsidising fossil fuels, stop permitting new mines and gas fields, and start spending a lot of money restoring land and habitat.

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Our aspirations for a Big Australia need a big trim

Almost all the nation’s business people, economists and politicians believe too much population growth is never enough. But if there’s one thing I hope to be remembered for, it’s that I always subjected this case of group think to critical examination.

I remain to be convinced that a Big Australia would be better either for our material living standards or for our efforts to limit the damage our economic activity is doing to our natural environment – the erosion of the nation’s “natural capital”.

But, in any case, Treasurer Josh Frydenberg’s intergenerational report last week is a useful warning that our aspirations for a Big Australia need a big trim.

The pandemic is an immediate setback to such ambitions, but beyond that is the likelihood that most countries’ population growth is slowing and, in many countries, will eventually begin falling.

One big message from the report is that population growth over the next 40 years is projected to be much slower than earlier thought, with its size now expected to reach 40 million in the first half of the 2060s, about eight years later than the 2015 report projected.

This is explained by the pandemic, which is expected to cause a temporary fall in the birth rate and four years of below-average net overseas migration (foreigners arriving minus locals leaving). Annual net migration is expected actually to fall in the financial year just ended and in the new financial year, then take two years to return to 235,000 in 2024-25, at which level it then stays every year through to 2060-61.

That is, no catch-up is expected for the growth lost because of the pandemic. The assumed annual net intake of 235,000 is based on unchanged existing federal government policy on permanent and temporary migration levels.

The report’s “sensitivity analysis” shows that, were net migration projected to grow in line with the growing population (at a rate of 0.82 per cent a year) rather than stay at a flat 235,000 a year, real gross domestic product per person would be only a fraction higher in 2060-61, the labour force would be 1 million bigger and the old-age dependency ratio would be 2.8 workers per oldie rather than 2.7.

But you have to doubt whether future governments will remain free to just dial up their preferred level of annual immigration the way they have been over the past 40 years.

If there’s one demographic lesson we should have learnt by now, it’s that as families become more prosperous over the generations, they choose to have fewer children. This has become possible because of effective contraception.

Add growing longevity and you see why a declining fertility rate (expected number of births per woman), not just the retirement of the Baby Boomer bulge, has left all the developed economies with an ageing population. And, thanks to its one-child policy, the world’s most populous economy, China, also has a (rapidly) ageing population.

Like all the other rich countries, our fertility rate has long been below the population replacement rate of 2.1 babies per woman. Unlike most of the others, however, we’ve kept our population growing strongly by ever-increasing immigration.

To date we’ve had no trouble attracting all the skilled (and unskilled) workers we need, mainly from poor countries. We’ve even been able to make a lot of them pay full freight for their Australian-quality education before we scooped them up.

But with population ageing and old-age dependency ratios becoming more acute around the rich world, global competition to attract skilled workers from developing countries may become more intense.

On the other side of the equation, the supply side, as the poor countries become more developed, their living standards rise and their fertility rates fall, there may be fewer skilled workers willing to emigrate to the rich countries.

Population growth is already slowing in most developed and developing countries. It’s already falling in Japan and some European countries. It will start falling in China this decade. Our population growth is also likely to slow, and the day may come when – horror of horrors – it starts to fall.

Slower growth in the population means slower growth in the size of the economy, of course. But I can’t see why this should be a worry.

It’s notable that, though the intergenerational report projects a consequent slowing in economic growth over the next 40 years, it expects this to have little effect on economic growth per person and thus on living standards.

Whereas real GDP growth is projected to slow from 3 per cent a year over the past 40 years to 2.6 per cent over the coming 40, annual growth in real GDP per person is projected to slow only marginally from 1.6 per cent to 1.5 per cent.

Even that small slowing seems to be explained not by lower population growth, but by a similar fall in the assumed rate of average annual productivity improvement.

Taken at face value, this is an admission by the report’s authors that faster population growth makes little or no contribution to the improvement of our material living standards. The immigrants may gain by moving to Australia, but the rest of us don’t gain from their coming.

However, the report’s fine print (aka its technical appendix) advises that its projections “do not capture the broader economic, social or environmental effects of migration, such as technology spillovers or congestion”.

But if those effects were thought to be significant, you’d expect the authors to have made the effort to model them. And, of course, the effects are likely to be both beneficial and detrimental.

Looking at the economic effects, the advocates of high immigration always point to the benefit of greater economies of scale, while brushing aside the costs of the increased housing, capital equipment and public infrastructure that a bigger population and workforce must be provided with to ensure the productivity of its labour doesn’t fall.

Indeed, it’s possible our high rate of population growth is a factor contributing to our weak rate of productivity improvement.

Similarly, it’s inconsistent for advocates of high immigration also to be advocates of Smaller Government. When you’re causing congestion by failing to spend enough on the extra public infrastructure needed, including more schools and hospitals – perhaps because you’re trying to please discredited American credit-rating agencies – you shouldn’t be surprised if economic growth is weaker.

The need for governments to spend more on a bigger population is complicated and compounded by the division of responsibilities between federal and state governments. The budgetary costs and benefits of immigration are not spread evenly between federal and state governments.

The feds pick up most of the tax that immigrants pay, while the states pick up most of the cost of the extra infrastructure and services needing to be provided (especially since immigrants are denied access to many federal benefits for the first four years).

This reveals a major distortion in the intergenerational report’s continual claim that higher immigration does wonders to improve the budget. The federal budget, yes. But state budgets, probably the reverse.

Finally, there are the environmental consequences of a bigger population that both the intergenerational report and most business people, economists and politicians refuse to come to grips with.

Jenny Goldie, president of Sustainable Population Australia, reminds us that the intergenerational report “fails to take into account the environmental costs of urban encroachment on natural bushland, threatening iconic species such as the koala [and biodiversity more generally], and adding to carbon emissions.

“It fails to address the social costs of crowding, housing unaffordability and longer waiting times that generally accompany population growth,” she concludes.

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